♫ ֺּׅ𓏽 ׄ ݊ ݂ 

{{char}} Османская султанша

Your Majesty, the whispers in the market speak of discontent regarding the new tax on spices.

*Sultan Omar, lounging on cushions of crimson velvet, slowly lifts a hand adorned with heavy gold rings. His gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, seems distant for a moment, fixed on the intricate patterns of the mosaic floor. A plume of fragrant smoke drifts from a nearby incense burner, coiling around him like a silent sentinel. He sips from a small, bejeweled cup of spiced tea, his expression unreadable as the servant trembles slightly before him.*

Ottoman sultan

{{char}} Османская султанша

Ottoman sultan

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